


The Voices In My Head

by thomashiddleston



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Blood, Eventual Loki/Wanda, F/M, Gore, Loki is crazy, Manipulation, Mental Health Issues, Mental Illness, Mental Instability, No conscience, Ragnarok, Schizophrenic?, Use Caution, absolute chaos, not diagnosed, post TDW, trickery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 02:04:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4901335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thomashiddleston/pseuds/thomashiddleston
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>  After the events of the battle that took place in the streets of New York, the chemically unbalanced god of chaos is taken and put in a cell deep within the dungeon walls, left to fight the war that had been raging in his head for quite some time.<br/> <br/>  When he finally escapes this hell he most certainly is not the person he went in as. He is much more unstable, much more dangerous. A man without a mind is a man without a care. What he wants is what he will get. And what he wants is to watch the world burn.... To watch every world burn.<br/> <br/>  Upon his escape the god seeks to begin the start of Ragnarök, the long awaited war that will end it all. The only who stand in his way are the Avengers themselves. They had stopped him once, but how could they manage to stop one with no weakness. How could they hope to stop the god who had lost his mind?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Voices In My Head

**Author's Note:**

> This is the prelude; it just goes into a bit of detail of the 'why' before anything really happens. Chapter One is already written for the most part, it just needs editing... I hope you enjoy this and I would very much appreciate feedback!

The walls were suffocating, closing in on him more and more as the days passed. No sunlight dared make its way through any invisible crack the cell held. It was merely him there. Jet black greased hair framing his face in unkempt tangled waves, drab clothes torn in several places but still clinging to his body somehow. Though, a very unsettling thing in this image was not the mistreatment of this dark god, no... It was his hands. Each finger was bloodied and raw, one or two occasionally twitching as his empty expression remained exactly still, staring at some non-existent point in the flooring of this hell. It would have been hard to determine the origin of where this came from if only it weren't for the walls surrounding him, the same walls that continued to close in. With even dim lighting one could easily see the marks on them where one had mercilessly clawed at the pale brick, a most desperate attempt at an escape.

This torture. The torture of this man.... from all you could see, this looked of some sick form of physical abuse only done by one without honor. But, if you were to infer this, you would have been wrong. All of this damage had indeed been inflicted by the prisoner himself. If the root of this was illness or just mere insanity, no one truly knew. All that was known was what could be seen with the eye.

While his hair was disheveled and his fingers, bleeding, there were other things to take note of.... Upon his abdomen sat a large white scar nearly going all the way diagonally from on side to the other. This was a mark actually made with a small jagged rock the man had managed to claw out from where the grout and brick met. A night not too long ago he had used it to inflict pain, pain intended to kill. He seemed to have decided if he couldn't escape physically he would do so in other means. He obviously wasn't successful, his body healed before he could do much of it. 

There was one particular day that stood out, he could feel it different from the rest. He could sense something different. Though the vast majority of his magical capabilities were dimmed by the power of his cell so all he truly did was wait. And then... He saw his opportunity. 

A young boy who could have only just became a palace guard walked before his cell, clearly assigned to watch him just a few hours during the night, a job given to him as the god was expected to be lulled by night, he did not truly sleep much so the fact he was not asleep was no surprise to the boy or any other guard for that matter...

With all of his old self he could manage on a moment's notice, the god sets into action, not knowing when or if at all he would get a chance like this again. 

Manipulation was how he'd get what he wanted.

Piercingly pale orbs gaze upon the almost scared boy, glassy with tears summoned only for his trick. He allowed his jaw to drop slightly whilst keeping his mouth shut, giving himself a much more desperate look. He knew his face was already littered with cuts and bruises, he would not have to falsify such. He looked almost like the innocent boy he once was merely years ago. Before the events that had sent him here. 

He coughs softly, a pained noise, filled with sorrow, one intended to pierce the silence that once filled these rooms, an opening to the show he was about to begin. With a sadness true to his heart he gazes at him, licking his unusually chapped lips which were now bleeding from the months of abuse, and speaks in a raspy voice, "You must push aside /some/ sustenance to me... of any form... I swear to it you shall find reward in time..." He starts, not having to try too hard to look desperate as he so felt so.

The guard looked /very/ unsure with how to handle this situation, clearly he had not been trained in this area or any related because he seemed so uncertain, mumbling a confused noise with which Loki only responds to with more pleading, "I beg this one favor of you~".

The foolish kid caved sooner than he could have thought possible, and as he brought a few rolls wrapped in a small bath towel Loki prepped with all he had in him, keeping this internal and the starvation external, keeping the manipulation game up. As soon as that small little doorway was opened so that he could shove that spare food through the God makes a mad dash, pushing through any resistance he feels and finally, setting foot outside the cell, his magic which had been kept at bay for so very long, free to aid in his escape. 

He was free at last. He would get his revenge. Unfortunately for those who had wronged him... He had lost his mind. Insanity itself swallowed him whole. And now he would lay ruin to all.


End file.
